Tuesday, January 26, 2010

"If I didn't get these songs out of me, I was going to kill myself" says Marcy Playground singer John Wozniac. Needless to say, this time the approach to writing Marcy Playground's latest album was different. Considerate, open and sincere, he seems like the guy everyone likes but hasn't realized it yet himself.

When you say Marcy Playground you know someone will reply "oh yeah, sex and candy" and well who can blame them. To say "sex and candy" was a big hit is a bit of an understatement. The Marcy Playground we knew in '97 was a band with one of those classic songs that no one could ignore. They were folky at times, rockin' at others, they were full of Americana on one song, yet they could still do a shaded slow jam that would somehow make you dance. Either way, MP was a band that deserved its place on the charts and that feeling still resonates today. They were 90's without the angst, a breath of fresh air. That was then. Now it's 2009 and MP has a new record, Leaving wonderland...... in a fit of rage.

I want to make it clear, their talent hasn't faded one bit and the stellar song work is as good as ever. The difference this time around is that these songs were written because they had to be written. This isn't some rehashed, reformed band hearkening back to their heyday, reliving past successes for a quick cash grab and a revived sex appeal. The new release is flawlessly crafted, sentimental pop with a hint of calm urgency. The old smart, catchy tunes are still there but the current runs a little deeper this time.

Initially, the album was a solo project with no initial plan for release, John just had to get the songs out of him. After falling into a severe depression, John eventually began writing. This time because he had to. He delved head first into what most are too scared to, the distorted perception of his life and the world. One thing in particular that he noted was a severe head injury he endured as a child after being struck by a car. The injury apparently had far reaching affects into his life, most of which he had generally been able to ignore until recently.

Now, if you think your going to get a self-loathing record marked by pity and regret, you're mistaken. This isn't some self-involved ego reunion band crooning bad poetry. The album is one of those bitter sweet grips, with a reminiscing appreciation for the safe times and the fundamentals. "Blackbird", with the chorus "Thank you Raine" descends with an ode to his wife, Raine. Another song "Good Times" isn't a party anthem but a reminder to persevere. The album has a wisdom to it, it's a paced view point with glimpses of memories splashed in as literary scenes to evoke remorse and give a clearer perspective. It's resiliance without unfounded optimism. The soundtrack to stepping out of the house, taking a deep breath and counting your blessings without forgetting the past.